


Quiet

by Surly_Sour



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surly_Sour/pseuds/Surly_Sour
Summary: Passing thoughts of Walter in the aftermath of Season 3.





	Quiet

No doubt they would draw apart soon enough -

It is one of those moments where the embrace lingers a touch too long and turns to that natural inclination of swaying. Arms comfortable where they settle, be it across shoulders and tucked carefully against the small of the back. Her head resting lightly against his chest. It’s an unfamiliar thing, this, how rare this closeness is. But oh is it a welcomed thing when one generally only draws this close to put something sharp between the ribs of another, or to order another to take up the task. That dance is all too familiar, but this? 

He welcomes this. This unfamiliar trust. This unsteadiness and although somewhere within the deep and dark places the changeling is terrified of how inviting it is to stay in this moment. The dust had settled literally and figuratively and he had considered once more to simply leave - though they had mended so much he had still played a role in all of this.

At least, he had considered leaving before Barbara had taken his hand and leaned into his arm once Jim was well out of sight. Off to pursue his future. Jim was something else now, no longer the fears a mother has of a boy growing up, finishing school, leaving home for college, living - no, those would have been far simpler dreams she would have had for the Trollhunter.

This uncertain future was a far more vast and frightening measure laid out before them.

Everything had changed, himself included, no longer clad in the mask of humanity - in his effort to remove the boy’s humanity in preparation of facing Gunmar’s fury somehow it had taken root and flourished within himself. Perhaps this change was for the better. He may no longer have worn the face of Waltolomew, but Barbara looked at him without fear. Even still she gave his heart pause - he may have stood defiant before the radiant fury of a deity, but truly this woman was his light. 

Stricklander would bask in that light until the end of his days given the chance.

Now, no longer a need for strength and resolve in the face of disaster, this look was not of bravery, this Barbara was simply a very tired woman who had lost her son and was about to partake in a change of her own. One of the few admirable traits of troll and human alike, picking up the pieces and continuing on. Barbara Lake would return to her home and he would follow. A dangerous place as any, lain heavy with the perils of memory. 

She would mourn. And he would stay.

And here they were, Barbara had been fighting that sinister beast known as grief since they had returned home. It had lain awaiting in a basket of laundry, lingering within the door frame or in a simple moment of pause of conversation as they had slowly worked to put their home back into order. Walter does not fuss over her or offer empty assurance when it comes, instead he pulls her close. He knows she needs that more than words, steadying each other within this far too quiet house and waits for this moment to pass.

How easy something once done as an empty act can suddenly such gain significance. He rests his face against the top of her head and breathed in as he held her, warmth settling into his stone form as he carefully wrapped his arms once more around her. She fit so well against him, practically a keystone, funny that. Hadn’t they started seeking one of those in the beginning? And it is in that he takes comfort in the soft sounds of the evening around them, contrast to the sound of her sadness.

The almost instinctual urge creeps in him to further disturb that quiet - to prove that this was real - even if it was to simply hum. Perhaps a scrap of some ancient tune heard in passing long ago, a goblin song or a piece of that other Walter that had been once dismissed but doggedly remained in his memory. That quiet music of humanity set against the rumble of settling stone within the darken places.

He simply holds Barbara, silent, waiting for them to part once more. There was still so much to mend. Too much he feared at times. They do not part, though she draws away slightly, calm, a familiar spark to those blue eyes that captured the terrible Stricklander so long ago. No, she doesn’t leave his embrace, instead she slips her warm hands against the sides of his face and kisses him. 

Stay. So much spoken without words.

It was there they settled and there they would stay.

Together.


End file.
